


And Then They Called My Name

by ACannibalisticSkittle



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:04:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACannibalisticSkittle/pseuds/ACannibalisticSkittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fang, a normal boy from District 10 is chosen to compete in the Hunger Games. A girl from 11 saves his life, but what happens when you're forced to betray the one you trust?</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then They Called My Name

He stared, eyes calculating, at the girl in front of him. He didn't take notice to her appearance, just the weapon in her hand. A knife. She was a close range fighter, which meant she had the advantage. For a split second they were still, before she launched at him. Running lightning quick, he turned and ran to the opposite side of the clearing, hoping his speed was faster than her's and he could make an escape. Unfortunately for him she caught up to him with ease, and tackled him to the ground. The last thing he saw was the halo of dirty blonde hair and brown eyes of a devil before she sunk her knife into his back. As he faded off, he admired this girl, for the stone cold resolve she had in her eyes as the light drained out of his. He knew this was bound to happen. When you were chosen for the Hunger Games, you died. There was no hope. You would die, no matter what. And at that moment, he knew he would never see life again.

* * *

Fang was just a normal boy, from a normal family, with two younger sisters and a mother. He resided on the Capital owned ranch his family worked on in District 10, the livestock district. He was nothing out of the ordinary, dark haired, tall and skinny, just as most other 17 year old boys where he lived. His sisters, of the ages 6 and 4, were the same, skinny from the sparse food supply, and light complexions with hair and eyes the color of coal.

He was just a farm boy. Take care of the animals, feed the family, get by. That was his job. He was the man of the house. His father had died in an unfortunate accident, one day about 4 years ago he was shoe-ing a horse and got distracted, enough for the horse to get irritated and kick back, sending his hoof right into his father's skull, fracturing and killing him instantly. Fang was there when it happened, he had been tending to the sheep. He remembered every gruesome second, and the image would haunt him forever. It had happened when his mother was still pregnant with his smallest sister, so both of the girls were really to young to understand what had happened. Hell, one of them hadn't even been born yet. But Fang remembered, and he felt a bit responsible. He was there, he should have been able to prevent it. He didn't, though, and when his mother had found out, she had blamed him also.

She now made him do all of the work, guilting him into taking care of them, acting like it was his fault all the time. Every misfortune that fell on them was his fault. Ever since then.

It wasn't like he minded taking care of them. He loved his sisters. And he owed it to his mother, being as she gave birth to him and she was so frail now. After their father died she kind of just wasted away, her mind slipping bit by bit. She barely left the house anymore, and whenever she was around him for more than a few minutes, she would break down and get either sad or angry and tell him to leave.

Fang cared for them anyway, and always got enough food on the table. Lately though, he was getting a little skinny, not from lack of food, but the stress of the Hunger Games arriving soon. Only two days left until the Reaping, and Fang wasn't worried much for his family, being as his sisters were to young to be picked, as was his mother too old. He did worry quite a bit for himself though, he had taken tessera out every year, and his name was in the giant glass bowl 37 times this year. He knew that if he was called on, his family wouldn't make it even a month. His sisters too young, his mother too frail, he had set up a plan with another family in his district, that if he had been chosen then they would take his sisters and mother in.

Trying to forget about such despairing topics, he threw a bucket of slop to the pigs, and went to brush his horse. Once you became 14 in his district, you were awarded a horse that you could do with what you pleased. You could train it, or kill it for food when old enough, or sell it. It was one of the few perks of living in the livestock district. His mother had sold both his father's horse and hers. She hated the animals, and only just barely accepted him having one. They had three others that were Capital property, that were for breading. They had to care for them, but could not ride them or anything, just take care of the necessities and make sure the pregnancy and birthing go well. Horses were his favorite animal, actually. Despite what happened to his father, before his death the man had loved horses, and taught Fang everything he knew about them. He taught him that they should be loved and cared for, and are the kind of companion that you should never let go; the faithful, unjudging kind.

"Hey there, beautiful girl," he whispered, entering his horse's stall with a brush and a carrot, a special treat. Vegetables were extremely hard to come by in his district, but his neighbor, a nice old lady who bought his spare chicken eggs, grew them in a little plot of land by her house in secret. It was not grade A quality, a given, but it was good enough for his horse to take and munch on happily.

"You know girl, that carrot is going to go straight to your thighs. I think you need to run more, you're getting a little chunky," he told her, patting her side and ran the brush down neck. She gave a little snort in response. He chuckled, and brushed her in relative silence after that, and they enjoyed each others company.

He stretched the task out as long as he dared, before sighing and staring to put everything away. He needed to prepare dinner for his family, and the sun was already setting. His horse snapped at his pants with her midnight black snout as he left her stall, and he swatted at her.

"Down, girl! I need to go make dinner. No need to be such a drama queen. I'll be back in the morning," he scolded. She always got like this when he tried to leave, being as he was the only human she really liked. She was a sassy little thing, and wouldn't put up with his sisters or mother. Other ranchers couldn't even get near her without her throwing a fit. She only wanted him, and wanted him all the time. She was a character all right, the opposite of him. She was loud and high strung, he was quiet and did as he was told. She let out an unhappy neigh, and stopped her feet.

"Oh, quit it, you're fine!" he said, and stalked out of the barn, closing the door behind him and locking it. It wasn't as if anyone would steal his animals, stealing was a level one offense in Panem. He was worried about one of the smarter animals getting out of their pens and escaping. They've had a few escape artists, and after losing one once, he was sure to take extra precautions.

Walking up the dirt road to his little hose/cottage area, he entered the quaint building and took off his beaten leather jacket and placed it on a old wooden chair in the makeshift dinning/kitchen area. The jacket was special to him, it was his father's before, and it was one of those rare things his father owned and cherished. Leather was rare for people who weren't wealthy, and his father told him one time that he got it from a business man from the Capital who had traded him for a couple cow hides.

"Brother! Brother!"

"Bwother, bwother!"  
His two sisters came running at him, greeting him the the customary hug-tackle they always do. He gave them both a squeeze at the same time, before breaking their hold and moving to the kitchen.

"You guys hungry?" He asked, smiling. His mother sat at the small dining table, staring at the scratched oak of the surface. She didn't greet him or even look up, and didn't answer when he asked. This was normal, however. It was better than her blowing up at him. She had refrained from doing it as much in front of the girls, but after witnessing it as much as they did, it seemed both the girls didn't want much to do with her. She yelled at their big brother, their savior, their most favorite person. Fang told them that she was sick and they needed to help her get better, so they didn't ever really say anything against her, but they seemed to think of her as a stranger anyway. In their eyes, she wasn't their mom. Fang was their only parent.

"Yeah! We only had goat cheese and some jerky today, 'cause the milk spoiled and I still can't use the stove and mama wasn't feeling good today," his 6 year old sister said, taking the seat farthest away from her mother.

"Well, I'll cook the hamburger and we can have the rest of the cheese. I'll go into town tomorrow," he said, and started to pull the meat out of the icebox.

He set to work cooking, listening to his sister's tales of the day and nodding and smiling. The girls were the light of his day, besides his horse. He enjoyed spending time with them and listening, and they enjoyed telling. His mother only moved to pick up her food and eat, never taking her dark eyes off of the scratched oak. She had an eerie are to her, one that was unstable and fragile. The girls seemed to migrate away from here, but Fang ignored it. After dinner, he bathed his younger siblings and tucked them into the small bed they shared, across from his bed, not even two feet away. His mother had her own room that she used to share with their father, but refused to give it up after he died. So the girls and him were packed in the tiny, cramped room, but they made due.

He kissed both of their foreheads, and wished them a goodnight.

"Bwother," the youngest spoke up, "you aren't goin' away soon, wight? You come back?"

He knew she was talking about the Reaping, and his heart twinged. He couldn't promise her that he wouldn't get chosen, his name was in there 37 times. District 10 was a fairly small one, with only a population of around four hundred. There weren't a lot of teenage guys in the Reaping, and all he had to count on was that others had taken more tessera than he had. Might he say, the odds were not in  _his_ favor.

"Yeah baby girl, I'll come back," he said, with a false tone of reassurance. He got the urge to cry as she looked up at him with that glimmering trust and hope, and his older sister recognized the pain on his face, to some extent. She was mature for her age, as were they all. She had am amazing talent of understanding what people were feeling, and sometimes some of the things she said and understood were well beyond her years. He hated the moments like this, where he could see that he had failed to shelter her from the outside world. He supposed that living in the kind of world they did, there wasn't much he could do, but he did his best.

"Come on, sissy, time to go to sleep. Tomorrow we'll go and see the sheep, okay? And maybe brother will take us to town with him," she said, cuddling into the rough covers nest to her sister.

"Weally?" the 4 year old asked, and Fang smiled and nodded. It was the least he could do, and they both loved the town, being as they didn't get out much with his mother never leaving and him working all the time. His sisters had great big smiles adorn their faces as he blew out their old lamp on the small bedside table they shared, and crawled onto his own hard mattress. He bid his sisters one last goodnight, and drifted off into a fitful sleep, the Reaping and his family plaguing his mind.

* * *

 

 

Fang walked down the one gravel road in town, each hand occupied with smaller ones, and he smiled down at his sisters who were looking around wildly, eyes wide with excitement, staring at all the open stalls and hustling people. They had only been into town once or twice in the last year, and the busy and friendly atmosphere was something they enjoyed.

"Bwother, bwother! Look!" His littlest sister yelled, pointing excitedly at a stall filled with all sorts of fresh baked bread and pastries. These sorts of things were rare in their district, being as they didn't have the soil to grow grain or wheat. The market had all sorts of these things that were transported in small portions to the other district. But bread and pastries were expensive where they lived, and Fang himself had only had things like that a few times in his lifetime.

He smiled and walked over to the stall.

"You guys agree on one thing to share, anything you want," he told them, and they both jumped up and down excitedly and let go of his hands to rush to the table, where they started pointing out different treats to each other.

"Brother! Look at all of them! They look so yummy!" the eldest said, looking back at him, and he loved the precious look of childishness and happiness on her face. They had so many worries from such a young age; treats like this were what really made life worth it for them.

They whispered excitedly to each other, before nodding their heads and turning to him.

"We want this one!" the older girl said, pointing at a large pretzel on a cooling rack that the woman had just pulled out of the oven.

"How much?" he asked the lady, putting his hands on his sister's backs, as they smiled with vigor.

"I'll take trade, but ten coins if you prefer," she said, and then smiled at the girls.

"But seven coins for you lovely young ladies," she added, and they squealed in unison.

"Thank you very much," he said with a warm smile to her, and she gave him a friendly wink.

"Anything for a handsome young man such as yourself," she said, and he handed the coins over. Seven coins was really a steal, such things as bread were usually twelve to fifteen coins each. His sisters took the pretzel from the old woman, and started ripping away at the warm, fresh dough, shoving as much in their mouth as they could at a time. They chewed happily as they walked away from the stall, talking excitedly between themselves. They went around to a couple different stalls, looking while Fang did his trade and business. They made their way home, and the girls rushed excitedly into the house with the goods he had bought, while he went to the stables to tend to the animals as usual. While he threw hay to the horses, he didn't notice as his mother slid in the barn door as fluidly as a ghost. He only realized she was there when she spoke up.

"If you get chosen in the Reaping, it will be your fault," she spoke hoarsely, as if her voice had not been used for a long period of time, as it would if someone was recovering from strep throat or a nasty cold.

"I only did it so we could have food on the table," he said flatly, not turning to look at her.

"You should have worked harder so you didn't have to apply for the tessera," she said, and his hands clenched on the bale of hay he was hauling.

"You're right. If I'm chosen then it will be all my fault," he said quietly, not wanting to argue. She would only go raving mad if he disagreed with her, so he let it be and didn't oppose her. Plus, he knew it would be his fault if he were Reaped, but the girls needed the extra food at the time. He wasn't thinking about the long term consequences, because it was for them.

She just stood there as he finished, and he didn't even bother to wait for her to leave as he shut off the lights and closed the door. She would leave eventually. He made his way to the house to start dinner, and their mother didn't join them. By the time he put them to bed, she still hadn't come inside. He went to bed that night restless, dreading what was coming the next sunrise.

* * *

He dressed the girls in matching light blue fabric dresses that reached the knees of the older sister and half down the calf of the other. The younger would grow into it, he was sure. He put the littlest's hair into two braided pig tales, and left the other's hanging straight down. Her hair reached well down to her lower back, and the ink black curls spiraled down in almost a poetic fashion. She got the curly hair from their father, as the rest of them had straight, boring hair. He was envious of his sister; she easily got the best traits in the family. It wasn't as if he wasn't attractive to most, but he was very plain. There was at least ten other boys he could recall that looked almost exactly like him. He supposed that it was just the people in his district being as isolated from other traits and bred for generations to create the coal black hair and eyes as well as the pale complexion as the norm. He dressed in his own tan dress pants and light blue button up shirt, the only 'nice' clothes he had. He worried of his sisters' wardrobe in a few years though. They grew like weeds, sprouting at least three or four inches every couple of months. Soon they would be too big for their clothes, and too small to wear their mother's.

His littlest sister looked at him as if nothing was wrong with today, as Fang had explained it to her that the event was just where two older kids went off for a while; not the reality or truth of it. He didn't want to expose her to the harsh reality of what really took place, but he figured she'd find out in the next few years anyway, but he wanted to let her ignorance last for as long as it could.

His mother came out of her room dressed, and they all headed off to the square where the Reaping would take place. Their mom took the girls and they found a seat in a section for the residents who couldn't be Reaped, while Fang went to the section for his age group. Only around fifty or sixty guys were there, and he couldn't help that helpless feeling in his gut as a strange man who had pink hair and green-ish dye to his skin. Fang recognized him as the man who did the Reaping every year, and he found him so strange. He wondered if everybody in the Capital was as strange as this man.

"Welcome, all to the Reaping of the 73rd annual Hunger Games! As you know, today we will be picking two tributes, by random, between the ages of 12 and 17 to be the lucky children to have the honor to compete, and a chance to live in eternal fame and glory if crowned victor."  
He man spoke with a thick accent, something that reminded Fang of some talking with their mouth stuffed full with cheese. The traditional speech was given, and they were forced to watch that video they showed every year about the Capital and the rebellion which held what they said transpired to inspire the Hunger Games. The boy next to him looked extremely nervous.

"Hey man, calm down," Fang whispered, as the boy shook.

"My sister's in it for the first time this year. I'm afraid for her. Let us pray she will be safe from the Reaping," he replied, and Fang did pray in his mind that this boy's sister would not get picked. He knew that he would be just as bad, maybe even worse if, and when, his sisters became part of the Reaping and had their names put in.

The man, whose name turned out to be Gretta Everworth, walked over to the bowl with the girls' names. He pulled out the slip, and called the name. It was nothing Fang recognized, and the boy next to him looked extremely relieved. Fang was silently glad that the boy's sister was safe, but looked with pity at the girl who was trembling as she walked up on stage. She looked no more than fourteen, extremely short and a baby face.

Gretta then went over to the boy's bowl, and Fang held his breath. Gretta smiled, and walked back to the microphone with excruciatingly slow speed. Fang took the hand of the boy next to him, who didn't say anything but let him. This moment was terrible for both of them, and even though they didn't know each other, human comfort was something they both needed.

Gretta cleared his throat, and ripped the little seal on the paper to unfold it.

"Fang Fairdear!" he called out in his odd accent and Fang's heart stopped. Time seemed to stop, and before taking another breath, he looked over to his sisters and his mother. Horror was on the eldest's face, and anger on his mother's. His youngest sister looked confused at her sister, and tugged on her sleeve, but she didn't look away from Fang.

The crowd around him started to part, and he let go of the boy's hand. Before he stepped forward, the boy hugged him from behind.

"God bless your soul, I will pray for the best for you," he whispered, and then let go. The whole crowd was silent as he walked forward, and once he got up onto the steps of the stage, Gretta rushed him along to stand next to the girl. She didn't even look at him, just out at the crowd in one spot where he assumed her family was standing. The whole thing felt surreal, and he couldn't believe it. He knew that his name was in there so many times that it was only plausible that he would have a good chance of getting picked, but the idea never really did occur to him that it would happen. Like the saying 'you don't think it will happen to you until it does,' it seemed really like it wouldn't happen; and yet it did.

He had made arrangements for his family of course, but when the plan would have to come into play he didn't really think it would. Now he was standing on the stage as Gretta finished his speech, and then Peacekeepers in white uniforms came and pushed him off stage into a room where he knew he would say his last goodbyes.

After a few minutes, what seemed like an eternity to Fang, the door opened to reveal is two sisters. They both came rushing in to get to him, and they grabbed onto his legs in a bone-crushing grip.

The oldest was crying hysterically, and the little one was crying also, but with a confused expression.

She knew he was leaving and that was bad, but she didn't know to where or why.

"Brother! Please don't go! You can't go!" the oldest called out, a hysteric sob following.

He was crying, too. He fell to his knees to hug them, and held them close with a desperate grip.

"I have to go baby girl. They said so. You two will be fine, shh…" he tried to calm them, but with the quivering in his voice he didn't even believe himself.

"Where you going, big bwother? You come back?" She asked, her face muffled in his shoulder.

"I'm going to go away, sweetie. I'll be on TV, you can still see me. You two take care of each other, now. Take care of mama," he said, pulling back to look at both of their faces for what he knew would be the last time. He knew his mother wouldn't come see him, she probably had nothing to say to him, and he knew he wouldn't have anything to say to her either. Two Peacekeepers walked through the door.

"Time is up," one said, and pulled the girls back.

"I love you two forever, remember that! Find mom, she'll know where to go," he called, as they were dragged out the door. The oldest screamed for him, over and over, until he couldn't hear her anymore. He stayed on his knees, sobbing into his hands. He couldn't make sure they would be okay, any he knew he wasn't coming back.

He would never see them again.

 


End file.
